Turning Pages
by parodyham
Summary: A Cybunny goes on a tour to the Neopian Times printing press with her Mother. Sounds normal enough, right? But their tour guide has something to hide. Six Part Series. Collaboration with warriorsrock965.
1. Chapter 1

"Good day, fellow Neopians. My name is Sir Pendleton Alberts the Third Esquire, but all of you fine citizens may call me Sir Alberts."

The figure, cloaked in a fine black suit, wriggled his nose slightly while pushing the golden-rimmed monocle higher against his brow. Red ribbon lined the brim of his top hat and a cane rest snugly against his short, stubby, pink paws.

He bowed before continuing. "I am but a humble tour guide who is more than delighted to show you around this brilliant establishment. Now before I continue, are any of you on the wrong tour? We are to be exploring the printing press, circa Y1, and home of the much celebrated Neopian Times."

His large, orb like eyes scanned through a long line of well-dressed Neopians of various size and description. All of them appeared to be content, slowly shaking their heads as to avoid losing adornments from their heads.

"Yeah, I sure am. Can I leave now?"

A few heads turned, and although rude to stare, it seemed almost rude _not_ to gawk.

Tall and lanky, a blue Cybunny stood with a leftward lean, both paws crossed over each other. No older than around twelve or thirteen, her furrowed brows seemed most unbecoming for a young Neopian.

The tour guide wrinkled his nose. _Blue jeans,_ he thought, trying desperately to keep his thoughts inside, _with noticeable tears in them, no less. How very improper_!

On the print of her t-shirt were the words "Twisted Roses" topped by an image of three makeup-caked teenagers wearing the ugliest of frowns. Upon noticing the guide's judgmental stares, the Cybunny rolled her eyes.

"Stephanie Ann Smith!" shrieked a high-pitched voice belonging to an Eventide Krawk. She had passably good tastes: a knee-length black skirt and button-up white blouse. Noticing the quieter room, the Krawk lowered her voice to a whisper. "You're being rude. Stop this nonsense!"

"Easy for you to say. _You_ didn't miss a concert for this."

"It's just a concert, sweetie."

"Yeah, Twisted's final tour before Gloomhollow goes on a solo career!"

"Well, you're just going to have to see Gloomhennel another time. You and I both know how hard it was to obtain these tickets. Your Father entered into that raffle for weeks in hopes of getting a pair of them. For Fyora's sake, please try to have a good time here, or at least pretend to. He would have loved to come."

The girl grunted, noting her mom's mispronunciation of the band's drummer. "Tell that to his boss."

"I did." She sighed. Meanwhile, Sir Pendleton tapped his miniature shoes against the tiled floor. "Tell you what. Behave on this tour and you might just find a birthday surprise in a couple of weeks."

"Lucky thirteen" was a birthday Stephanie had been looking forward to for ages. For the last twelve years, the fourteenth day of Running was the most magical day of the year, making most any wish into reality.

"You really mean it, Mom?"—a few around them winced at the use of an informal term—"that would be… really cool. But before I go along with this, does anyone find it weird that a _Meepit_ is running this tour? Aren't they evil and stuff?"

Thunderous gasps and chirps filled the hallway. An Aisha nearly fainted. Two Grarrls made an effort to step towards the Cybunny, but decided to scowl disapprovingly instead, even so far as to shake their heads for good measure.

Hearing enough, Sir Alberts paced towards the Cybunny, keeping his face blank and trusty cane swinging gently above the ground.

"Now, Miss Stephanie." Her lips turned to the side. "I have had quite enough of this tomfoolery. It is not very ladylike to speak to another in such a way."

"Like I should car—OW! Why did you do that?!"

"A cane does far more than help a gentle-Meepit get around. It also functions for discipline, something I see clearly lacking in this family." The Cybunny's Mother opened her mouth to retort, but he shushed her. "Now, let us begin our tour of the most expansive printing press in all of Neopia… with no further interruptions, if you please."

Stephanie narrowed her eyes at Sir Alberts, rubbing her arm.

She resisted sticking out her tongue, but just barely. "Get on with it then."

"Patience, my dear." Sir Alberts then lifted his cane and henceforth announced, "Follow me, my fellow associates! To adventure!"

Stephanie dragged herself follow after the rest of the tour group walked ahead of her.

"Annoying fancy-pants," she muttered, "Slapping my paw with his little Meepit cane. I wish I wasn't here at all. Dad should have been the one to go. He's into this sort of nerd stuff."

"Now Stephanie," the Eventide Krawk said, crossing her arms in the typical annoyed-Mom stance, "I thought you wanted to be surprised?"

Stephanie bit a fingernail. "Alright, fine. I'm sorry. But it's hard to be good with that mean, top-hat-wearing Meepit around. Who does he think he is, anyway?"

The tiny tour guide waddled towards an ornately decorated double door and knocked four times, all but ignoring Stephanie's commentary.

"Here we are, my fellow Neopians. This is the entrance to the most wonderful place in all of Neopia! I get chills every time I enter, if I might be so truthful." Sir Alberts paused as excited murmurs passed through the crowd. Stephanie could see that the Meepit was truly enjoying himself. He looked like a toddler in a sweets shop, bouncing about with a skip in his step.

Along with the sound of a triumphant fanfare, four White Weewoos swung open the double doors, assisted by a gown-wearing Draik; Alberts tipped his top hat in thanks.

"Welcome to the Neopian Times Printing Press!" the Meepit announced.

Inside there were doors leading off in many different directions. A very large printing press sat in the center of the room with a variety of other, smaller presses lining the periphery. Weewoos were fluttering all about whilst a variety of different Neopians were running around. Many clutched piles of newpapers and wore ink smudges on their delivery uniforms. While some Neopians worked the printing presses, others wrote furiously at their desks, quills bobbing and out of small ink containers.

Stephanie could not help but stare at the hustle and bustle. _They never said anything about this in Neoschool_ , she thought. _It's actually kind of cool_.

"Hey, Alberts!" She cleared her throat loudly, which caused a few of the other tour members to gasp. "I have a question!" Waving her hand back and forth, she raised her voice above all the commotion. "Just how big is this place, anyway? Are there rooms even bigger than this?"

Sir Alberts stopped what he was doing, _tsked_ at her loudly and waddled to her side.Before speaking, he tapped her paw with the cane. She yelped, and started to complain once more. A few of the Times workers glanced up, grimaced, and continued about their business.

"Please, Miss Stephanie, hold your questions until the allotted question and answer time! I would like this tour to continue on schedule."

He paused, tapping his cane against the floor three times.

"And if you pay attention, most of your questions will be answered, I assure you." The cane rose above his head and pointed towards another doorway. "Please, everyone gather around! This is where the fun starts."

Stephanie glowered at the Meepit, sticking out her tongue. He acted as if the gesture never occurred, although his cane-carrying paw stiffened a bit.

"Way to demean me in front of others, Alberts."

"Come on, Stephanie. Just listen to him." Her mom placed a paw on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Stephanie said, clenching her t-shirt and kneading it between her paws. "It's his fault, you know. And seriously, no one finds it the least bit weird the a _talking Meepit_ is running the tour? Really?" 

"Maybe he's just a magical Meepit." Her Mother shrugged. "Stranger things have been seen in Neopia."

Sir Alberts continued on, leading the tour toward the large printing press in the center. "This contraption printed our very first issue of the Neopian Times. It works by placing the letters on this board here," he lifted up a sample setting board, "dabbing the ink by hand with padded plunger-like apparatuses like these, and pressing the words onto paper. Amusingly enough, repurposed rags made up our pages in the olden days instead of tree pulp. They put ads in the news asking Neopians to donate rags, of all the confounding happenings. It cost almost as much to produce the Times as was made in sales! Of course, technological advancements allowed us to create many smaller printing presses, and we…" 

All Stephanie heard coming from the Meepit's mouth was, "Blah, blah, blahblah." She crossed her arms and looked aimlessly about the room.

 _I take it back. This is really, really boring_ …

She looked over to her Mom, who was listening intently to Alberts' speech. She was well known as a techno nerd in the community, and it showed. Her eyes glittered in amazement the more the stubby pink tour guide spoke. Now he was saying something about it providing information in a time prior to Virtupets tech.

 _There has to be something better to do here than just listen to this guy talk_ , she thought.

Her eyes pinpointed on a small, closed door. There was a Weewoo perched on top of the door, staring intently at everyone that passed. A guard bird, probably. Painted on a large red sign were the words "Employees Only: do not enter." Stephanie raised an eyebrow.

 _I wonder what's behind that couldn't hurt to take a small peek._

"Wasn't that interesting?" said her Mom with a beaming smile, all while elbowing Stephanie. "Oh, how I wish your father could have seen this! He would've loved it here. Who could believe that they use _microchips_ to scan things like that? So fascinating! And thanks for quieting down, honey. I really do appreciate it."

Stephanie was about to respond, but Sir Alberts voice came again, loud and ringing. "Come now, my fellow Neopians, Miss Stephanie included. We will now visit the most wonderful Fountain Room as well as the Hall of Editors…"

They were about to leave the room, but Stephanie had other plans.

 _If he can have a tour, then why can't I? Mom can have fun, Alberts can be a jerk, and I can have an adventure. We all win. There has to be something interesting around this place, and I won't find it hanging out with these snobs_ …

"Hey, Mom." She tugged on the Krawk's blouse. "I'm going to the bathroom, okay?" Stephanie pointed at the restroom doors across the room, even throwing in a little dance for good measure. The light above was flashing red, indicating that someone was inside. Two other Neopians were standing outside.

"Really, Stephanie?" The Krawk stopped in her tracks. "Why didn't you go before we left?"

"Didn't have to go then."

"Well, I guess I'll just wait with—"

"Nah, I'll be okay. I'm almost thirteen, Mom." When the Krawk looked unsure, Stephanie put a paw on her shoulder. "It won't be like last time. You can go on ahead."

The Krawk still looked unconvinced. "Alright, but come right back quickly. I'll tell Sir Alberts where you've gone so he won't miss you when he counts everybody." She turned to follow the group, scampering towards the dapper Meepit.

"Okay. Thanks, Mom!"

As they spoke, a flock of Weewoos circled above the group. An orange Aisha raised her paw, drawing the attention of a Weewoo. The bubbly song of the bird-like Petpet wavered through the air a few seconds before it finally perched on her pearl bracelet, much to the tourist's pleasure.

 _That was easy enough_ , Stephanie thought as she skipped towards the bathrooms. The rest of the group seemed distracted enough by the Petpets, thankfully.

As soon as the tour group went out of sight, she crept about the room, nearing the mysterious entrance. Luckily, the green Weewoo previously perched all but vanished, probably on a lunch break. That is, if Weewoos even had those. The other employees were busily scribbling, too engaged to look in her direction.

 _Well, it's now or never_!

The door creaked as it opened, causing her heart to skip a beat. She then sprinted inside, yanking the door closed with a single tug. Catching her breath, the Cybunny spun around and gasped. Bookshelves towered in all directions, nearly cresting the ceilings. It was odd to say the least, seeing as the building did not look half this size from the outside. From a distance was a small, wooden table. After walking a while, she made it to the table and looked back. The entry door was barely visible from afar.

"It's just a bunch of books and newspapers and stuff!" she said, disappointed. Her voice echoed throughout the room. Realizing how loud she had been, she sprinted behind a shelf and ducked between two sections labeled "Articles on Villains: Lord Kass" and "The Meridell Wars." Slumping against the shelf, she stayed quiet. When no one came bursting through the door, she left the hideaway.

"Why would they keep a place like this a secret from everyone?" Her eyes scanned through some of the shelves, many of which categorized with the words, "Neopian Times archives." A far larger section of the shelves had the words "All Neopian Times Submissions" written on them. Each unit contained so many submissions that they had been wedged together in order to fit. Only one unit, its shelves made of solid gold with purple trim, had room to spare. A "most prolific writer award" plaque sat in the center.

Nothing looked particularly out of the ordinary. Nothing, that is, except the flashing neon sign hanging above a shelf partitioned with caution tape. Hanging from the tape was a sign.

"Danger!" it read in hand-written fancy script. "Do not under any circumstance remove this media from its shelf!" Signed below was the name "P. Alberts III, esq."

"I knew it!" she gasped before rubbing her paws together. "That Meepit _is_ hiding something and I'm going to find out what it is."


	2. Chapter 2

Sir Alberts hurried along, pointing to every room along the way. Occasionally, he fiddled with his monocle, especially since it seemed to enjoy sliding down his round face when he spoke.

"Now this, good Neopians, is an example of a typewriter. Such a machine is quite advanced if I do say so myself!" He nodded to himself in agreement, gently waving the group towards the contraption.

A collective of sounds echoed about the room. Such a chorus of 'ahs' could only be compared to the pure delight of watching a rocket blast off to Kreludor for the very first time. A few of them even brushed their hands over the machine, taking note of its polished surface and pristine metal keys.

"As you can see here, the Neopian Times staff keeps all of our equipment in top condition. The worker Weewoos have an impeccable record of cleanliness, timeliness, and overall, a certain worldliness that has greatly assisted our ascent to the Neopian public. We are, after all, the voice of Neopia! And what good would a voice be if it were not aware of its audience?" Many of the Neopians murmured in agreement except for Stephanie's mother, who anxiously glanced about the room.

They left the large, warehouse-like room, interviewed a dapper young Shoyru about his experience at the press, and entered into a brightly lit narrow hallway. Along every square inch of floor lay blue carpeting lined with a golden quill design. On both walls were pictures of smiling Neopian Times staff. Most of them had a white Weewoo—now the Times' official mascot—perched atop their shoulder. Some Weewoos wore postal outfits, while others held quills. Nevertheless, one thing was for certain: they all looked highly content.

As the group walked past one of the one of many rooms, Sir Alberts brought up one finger to his mouth, instantly hushing the group.

"If you would, please turn your attention to this room," he said in a hoarse whisper, letting the cane hover above the ground. "Here we have a highly delicate operation: editing and selection for the Neopian Times. I too was once an editor in my prime."

A few of the Neopians took note of Sir Albert's sudden silence. His mouth twisted to the side, revealing two buckteeth. His large, beady eye stared deeply into the room.

Within a few seconds of stifling quiet, a loud cough came from the tour group.

"Oh dear, it looks as if I have traveled down memory lane." Murmuring, he clenched onto his cane tightly.

"They work very hard, I assure you. Well then," the cane made a single, almost silent tap against the ground. "The Fountain Room is a most splendid sight, as I'm sure you'll agree. Cascades of water flow from the wings of—"

"Excuse me, Sir Alberts?"

The group turned towards the Krawk, who now found herself clutching tightly to her suede red purse. A single tear dropped onto her white blouse, leaving a small mark.

"Why, good gracious! What could be the matter?" The Meepit stood on his tippy toes and held the Krawk's claw. "Have I not provided an acceptable service, lady…?"

"… Genevieve. You can call me Genevieve—after I receive an apology for your earlier comment, that is."

For the first time, the Meepit squirmed. "Well, I do apologize. Realize I had been frustrated before."

"Thank you for that, at least." The Mother's tone became frantic and she swayed from side to side. "Anyway, Stephanie is a lovely girl, but she has a bit of a, shall we call it, curiosity streak. I'm starting to worry that may have gotten her in trouble again. She was supposed to just be going to the bathroom, but I'm afraid she might have wandered off."

Sir Alberts tilted his head to the side. "Oh dear, that would not be good at all."

Genevieve gripped his paw so tightly that Sir Alberts dropped his cane. "D-do let go, good lady," he strained. "You're c-crushing my paw."

She apologized, freeing the Meepit from her grip before bringing her left paw up to catch another tear. He stumbled back and landed rear-first on the ground; the top hat tumbled a few feet away. A Vandagyre wearing oddly out-of-season Christmas robes bent over to help him up.

Proceeding to brush himself off, the Meepit brought up a paw to his mouth. If he had nails, they would be the subject of nervous biting.

"R-right, then," Sir Alberts said, "Everyone, we are going on a search party to find the missing, mischievous girl."

"Stephanie."

"Yes, that one."

A few of the tour members grumbled at the thought of wasting their precious time finding her.

"I spent good Neopoints on these tickets!" shouted a voice from the back.

Sir Alberts bowed his head in recognition. "I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause, but I assure you that the tour will continue as planned after we find Stephanie. Actually," he flagged down a smock-wearing intern. "Haibara, would you be willing to bring these good Neopians about the building? We have somewhat of a crisis at hand."

"Another one?" The Eventide Draik looked distressed. "Oh. I shouldn't have said that. You're giving me that don't-say-those-things look again. Um… sure! I got it. So, NT benefactors, you ready for a tour? I can tell you all about the chemistry behind the ink, and even the reactions that make phosphofructokinase part of your daily life! Oh, and I can't forget the many scientists who created the—"

"Make haste, dear intern," he motioned to the crowd.

"Oh, right. University habits and all. Sorry, Sir Alberts."

With that, the group split, with most of the benefactors heading with the young intern.

Sir Alberts turned to the shaking Krawk. "We must not let her wander around this place alone! Who knows what trouble…" he trailed off, proceeding to rub his tiny chin meticulously. "What trouble she might find herself in…"

Stephanie walked slowly over to the marked shelf, stopping just a foot away from it. She glanced back at the door, biting her lip. The Cybunny shook her head and focused once more on the shelf.

Before making her way to the 'dangerous' section, wanting to save that section for last, she skimmed a plethora of old, dusty newspapers from the archives. One had a feature on Krawks, aptly named "Krawks!"

'Will the creativity ever cease?' she wondered in amusement, rolling her eyes. A page or so in, there was a picture of a youthful eventide Krawk whose perfectly manicured teeth glistened almost as much as their designer sequined dress. A wave of guilt blanketed across the Cybunny's consciousness, paralyzing her with a sort of nagging numbness that only subsided once the paper lay dormant on the shelves once more. It probably was not the right shelf; they all almost looked alike, after all. She took out a few other scattered newspapers, read some comics, and shoved the media back in what appeared to be the right place.

 _I wonder if Mom noticed that I've been gone?_ Before such emotions could overwhelm her, the Cybunny mentally scolded herself. _Of course she didn't notice, Stephanie. Don't be silly! I bet she's having a great time without me._

She stood up from a single wooden chair where she had been reading and straightened her t-shirt again.

 _Just one more, then I'll walk back_ , she decided, looking in towards the restricted section. Oddly enough, only one book lay in the center of the shelf. An iron chain wrapped around the book, and a silver lock bound the pages together.

"Pfft, how could something like _this_ be dangerous? It's just a boring old book!" she wondered aloud. "I bet it contains Albert's deepest, darkest secrets or it wouldn't be in here."

Stephanie turned her back on the shelf and glanced back around the room, then up to the ceiling to look for cameras.

Along the book's leather binding were the embroidered words, _Monsters: Night of Despair_.

 _A book with a cheesy title. Is this, like, old shame or somethin_ g?

Stephanie stood back up on her tiptoes and reached into the back of the shelf, grabbing it. As she pulled it towards her, a layer of dust fell onto her face, shortly blinding her. Upon touching the book, she heard a clicking sound. Or she thought she did, anyway.

"Blech!" she coughed, wiping her eyes with the back of her paw. "Stupid old book!"

 _This had better be worth it_ , she thought, tossing the book onto the small round table in the center of the room, she coughed again. The footstool present a tripping hazard. Unsurprisingly, she landed face first on the book.

[i]Ow. Darn it. Well, I might as well see what this thing is all about, right? I can't go back to the official tour without finishing my own. [/i]

Picking up the book, she brushed over the smooth surface. "See for yourself what journeys await you," it said on the back. Just as she was about to scoff, more words appeared. This time, they were in bright pink ink. "That is, if you aren't too scared to take a peek…"

"Wait… did that book just talk to me? And more importantly, did it just call me a chicken?" She rubbed at her eyes. "Maybe I'll just read the first passage and then put it down, just to prove I'm not a coward. Or crazy. There's probably some sort of explanation as to why it leaves messages and stuff…"

Stephanie started to pry the leather binding open, but found it impossible to budge. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a key hanging from a nail on the wall. Grabbing it was no easy task. After four jumps, she managed to get it off the nail and clattering to the floor.

The key was a perfect fit.

Cracking open the book, it seemed almost new, never read. The first line, like the back of the book before it, seemed to appear before her.

"This story takes place in a secret library somewhere in the depths of Neopian Central. There was once a curious blue Cybunny who—" She stopped reading. Suddenly, Stephanie felt a strange sensation in her stomach. "What the—" She pulled her legs up into the chair and wrapped her arms around her stomach, clenching her paws and grinding her teeth.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Stephanie whimpered, trying to stand up and leave the room, but it seemed to be spinning. "Maybe… maybe this is a dangerous book."

The shelves seemed to be moving further and further away. All of the text, once almost too small to read, seemed to be growing.

"Oh Fyora, what is happening to me?" she exclaimed, staring at her paws in fear. They were fading away! Papers flew in all directions as books fell from the shelves to the floor.

All of the sudden she heard a loud _BANG_ and Stephanie disappeared.

The only thing left on the table was the small red book, all of the dust previously affixed to it gone. Unlike before, it had acquired a glimmering shine as if someone had attached a sheet of glass to its cover. _Monsters: Night of Despair_ slammed shut before opening once more. As if controlled, it crept open to page one. A few words began to form on the page.

"Where… where am I?"

Despite all of the noise, not a sound was audible except for the sweet, muffled singing of a Weewoo who had just returned to his perch. It continued to hum a melody that reverberated throughout the rotunda, echoing just enough to clash.


End file.
